Wow, I'm truly sorry about this one. I have no idea where it came from, it just showed up while I was writing 'Pandora's Box' and I had to get it out of my brain before it ruined the furniture. Disclaimers: Well, I've really done it this time, so if the nice men from the estate of L. Frank Baum want to come and get me, I'll go quietly, promise. The Yellow Brick Road by Erika Wilson August 1997 The Caddy came to rest with a loud and Nick looked around with a dazed expression on his face. The last thing her remembered was slipping into a flashback while driving through a construction zone. He must have hit an embankment and launched the caddy into the air. He got out to see if there was any damage. He hoped not, otherwise he'd never hear the end of it from-- "Are you a good vampire, or a bad vampire?" Asked a strangely familiar voice. He spun around quickly and stared at a sweet-faced woman with rippling waves of honey-brown hair. She was wearing a white, sequin-encrusted coat that was several sizes too large for her. Cradled in her arm was a bright silver clipboard, poised above which she held a long sparkling pen with a shiny star stuck on the end. "I beg your pardon?" "Are you a good vampire, or a bad vampire?" "Who are you?" "I'm Natalie, the Vampire Examiner." "What makes you think I'm a vampire?" "Your car. Only vampires need that much trunk space." Nick looked back at the caddy, wondering how many other people must have made the connection. To his horror, he saw that there were two arms clad in long red velvet opera gloves sticking out from under the front tire. "There's been an accident! Quick, get some help!" He cried, racing to save yet another victim of his ill-timed flashbacks. "Too late," Natalie pronounced matter-of-factly. "We're talking stylishly attired road-pizza here." Nick saw that she was right, for even as he grasped the gloves, whoever had been inside of them fell into dust and vanished. He rose slowly, holding the limp gloves in his hands. "What have I done?" He choked. "Nick, it's not your fault." Natalie admonished him. "She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And I must say, she wasn't helping your quest for mortality one little bit." "What?" He asked, completely confused. "Oh come on, Nick," she rasped just a tad shrewishly. "You honestly don't think I could miss those vampire hickeys you kept trying to hide under your collar?" "But I--" "No, it's okay, you're a big boy, Nick. I can't make you want to get better." "But I do want to, more than anything else. Won't you please help me?" The Vampire Examiner regarded him sourly, but he gave her that lost puppy dog look and she puffed at her bangs in exasperation. "Oh, all right. The first thing you have to do is put on those gloves." "What, these? I can't wear them, I'd look ridiculous." "The extent of your dedication and commitment never ceases to amaze me." She observed sarcastically. "Fine. Give them to me." He handed them over and she slid them onto her own arms, purring as she stroked the plush velvet texture. Then, with one violent motion, she tore away her white lab coat to reveal a long slinky evening dress of black beads and lace. "N...Nat!" Nick cried. "What are you doing?" Natalie popped the star off her pen and fitted a cigarette into the end. "Why Nicola," she smirked. "Just because you can't handle being a vampire doesn't mean that no one else can. "Ta ta." "Wait, Nat, what about my soul?" "Oh," she sighed. "That old thing. Well, if you really want to keep looking, just follow the yellow brick road." "The what?" She rolled her eyes. "The road? That big thing you're standing on?" "But where does it go?" "To the Emerald Tower, of course. Now really, I must be going." And with a sprinkling of little onyx beads, she launched herself skyward. "Yellow brick road?" Nick muttered to himself as he examined the paved surface beneath his feet. "Looks more blond that yellow, I think." "Okay, mister," A tough female voice barked. "Freeze!" Nick had been standing perfectly still, so he turned to see who was shouting at him. A tall slender blond woman wearing the uniform of a girl guide was pointing a gun at him. Nick could see the cork stuffed in the barrel and the string that attached it to the gun. "Don't make any sudden moves or I'll blow your head all the way to Vancouver." She sneered. "Actually," said Nick as he strolled over. "Vancouver is the other way." "Oh. Well, Nova Scotia, then." "Mmmm, nope. The angle is still a little too far south." "Oooooh," she exclaimed in frustration. "Look, I'm just going to blow your head clean off, okay?" "Not with that gun you're not." "Why?" She asked, looking down the barrel herself. "What's wrong with it?" "Pull the trigger and find out." She did and the cork bopped her on the nose. "Ow." She frowned, rubbing her nose. "That hurt." "Maybe, but your head is nowhere in the vicinity of--" He squinted at the constellations. "--Minneapolis." She drooped dejectedly and kicked at the little bits of yellow brick that lay scattered about. "I know," she mumbled sadly. "That's why I'm such a bad cop. Nobody takes me seriously. It's just not fair!" She stomped her little foot, which slid on some of the rubble she had been kicking about, landing her hard on her rear. Nick began to laugh. Tracy looked at the ground, looked at her pop-gun, and then looked at Nick, laughing very heartily and she began to cry. "Aw, hey, look," Nick said, crouching down beside her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you." "It's not just you," she snuffled. "It's everyone. I'll never be a good cop, not ever!" "Sure you will," he assured her with unconvincingly large amounts of sincerity. "Maybe you just need some help." "Really?" She wiped her sleeve across her nose. "Like what?" "I dunno," Nick shrugged. "But I'm looking for some help and I was told to follow the yellow brick road." "The what?" "The road?" That big thing you're sitting on?" "Oh, yeah. Hmm, seems more blond than yellow to me." He reached down and pulled her back up on her feet. "Oooh, yuck!" She grimaced. "What's that thing doing over there?" Nick turned to look where she was pointing. "Toto!" He ordered. "Drop it, now!" "Wot?" Toto mumbled around a mouthful of munchkin. "Aintcha never seed a terrier play shake 'n' bake wiv a squealer b'fore?" "Just do it, Toto." "Aw roight, aw roight." Toto grumbled. "But nothin' good's gonna come of makin' me behave contrary to me natcheral instinks, you kin be sure o' that." "Yeah, yeah, whatever," Nick sighed. "Let's go." The road led them through a thick forest that grew progressively darker and more menacing. The trees, which had begun straight and cheerful, gradually became bent, twisted and altogether unhealthy looking. "Gosh," said Tracy with a shiver. "This place gives me the creeps." "Hmmm," pondered Nick. "It almost feels as if there's some kind of malevolent force exerting its dark influence on this part of the forest." "Hey, look, there's a building up ahead." "Well let's have a look, shall we?" "Gee, I dunno. If that's the home of the malevolent force, maybe it doesn't like guests dropping in unexpectedly." "Oh, c'mon. It's a 'good cop' thing to do." "Really?" "Yeah, trust me." "Okay," she said, drawing her gun and approaching the door stealthily. "Then I'll go first." The waves of gloom and despair emanating from the small building were palpable, and they had to fight their way forward, resisting the urge to sit down and have a good cry at every step. With a final burst of inhuman optimism, Tracy kicked open the door and leveled her pop-gun at the pale figure seated motionless at the back of the room. "Freeze!" She cried. "Uh, Trace," Nick murmured in her ear. "I think he's already doing that." "Gosh, yeah." She breathed, moving closer cautiously. "He's not even blinking. The only thing moving are his lips." ~~~ "Listen to me, my little ones, my children, my saplings. The sun is your enemy, it will peel the bark from your twigs, steal the sap from your phloem. Bend away, curl in upon yourself. Only then will you be free of the burden of photosynthesis. Let the other flora toil away in ignorance, you can take from them what you require to survive. Feel their sweet, green essence flowing through your roots and you will never be satisfied with mere rainwater again." ~~~ "That's awful," Tracy gagged. "What's wrong with him?" "I think I've found the problem." Nick said, examining the shelves lining the room. "Look at this; Nietzsche, Dostoevsky, O'Neill, Baudelaire, Poe. Ugh, no wonder he's obsessed with horror and despair." "You mean it's because of what he's been reading?" "No, drinking." Nick replied, holding up a bottle. "How can he stand such vile, heavy pressings?" "Well, I don't think I can stand much more of him. How do we make him stop?" "Hmmmm, there may be a way...ah, yes!" Nick chortled, pulling out a bottle that had been shoved well behind the others. "This should do nicely." He pulled the cork from the bottle with his teeth and was about to spit it out onto the floor. "Wait!" Tracy cried, holding out her hand under Nick's mouth. "Extra ammo." Nick blew the dust out of a crystal goblet, filled it with the thick ruby liquid from his chosen bottle and held it to the pale speaker's lips. The room exploded. Bottles cracked and furniture disintegrated before the cry of anguished rage that burst forth from the tormentor of trees. Tracy and Nick found themselves lying flat upon the ground some distance away from the building which was quickly collapsing in upon itself. "What did you give him?" Tracy asked in astonishment. "Ribena." Nick replied as he got up and began dusting himself off. "Undiluted black current juice. Thick as honey and fifteen times as sweet." "Wow, it sure woke him up." It'll do that." The noise diminished and they watched as the building settled into a large pile of splinters. A tall figure appeared in the haze of dust that hung over the remains and strode towards them in a leisurely fashion. "So," LaCroix remarked pleasantly, brushing a few errant specks of dust from the lapels of his otherwise immaculate black suit. "How nice of you to drop in. We really must to this again sometime." He turned to view what was left of his house and pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Of course, we may have to wait until there is again something to drop in *to*." His smiled was rather unpleasant. Tracy squeaked and hid behind Nick. Even Toto spit out the squirrel he was sucking on and ducked behind a tree. "Oh, yeah, sorry about that." Nick said blithely. "I Didn't realize that you would react quite so, uh..." "Dramatically?" LaCroix offered in a decidedly dramatic fashion. "Well, no matter, the damage is, as they say, done. Things were getting a bit tedious around here anyway." He stroked a gnarled branch fondly. "I will miss my deciduous devotees. So loyal, so trusting," he sighed. "So unlike other, more disappointing offshoots of mine. But I believe it is time to move on. So," he smiled again and Toto whimpered fearfully. "Where are we going?" Several miles later... "Why did you have to let him come along?" Tracy whispered angrily to Nick. "It wasn't as if I could stop him from following." Nick explained. "At least this way we know where he is. Or would you rather have him lurking stealthily along the road behind us?" Tracy shivered at the prospect and then shrieked and fired her gun blindly as someone tapped her on the shoulder. The cork bounced harmlessly off LaCroix's chest and he regarded her expressionlessly until her face turned a sickly gray. "Sorry." She whispered and quietly backed away. "I was just going to mention that there appears to be something lurking stealthily along the road behind us." LaCroix explained. "Toto!" Nick barked. "Has something been following us?" "Surely," the little cairn terrier drawled insolently. "For th'last 'alf-mile at least." Nick grabbed the dog by the scruff of its neck and raised it to eye level. "Why didn't you say anything?" "Yew didn't bloody well ask!" Toto retorted. "Y'want me t'drop all the yummy lit'l tiddybitty bits I find, y'say so. Y'want me t'stop rollin' in th'nice smelly dead things, y'say so. Y'want me t'tell yew if sumpin' is lurkin' stealth'ly along th'road b'hind us, y'say so! Oy didn't 'ear no say so!" "He's right, Nick." Tracy pointed out. Nick gave Toto a good shake and dropped him. "Well let us know if it comes closer, all right?" "Roight, roight." Grumbled Toto. They cautiously continued on their way with all senses alert. Tracy scanned the trees around them, pop-gun poised to take down anything that moved. "Babe cop in action." She whispered to herself. Something tapped her on the shoulder and she whirled around with a shriek, firing her gun blindly. "Boo." Said Vachon and she promptly fainted. "Oy, it's closer." Mentioned Toto offhandedly. Nick shot the dog a disgusted look as he walked over to Vachon who was staring thoughtfully at Tracy's long legs. "What did you do that for?" Nick asked. Vachon regarded him with wide, puzzled eyes. "Because I can?" Tracy twitched, sat up suddenly and pointed her gun at Vachon's chest. "Freeze, mister!" The cork dangled uselessly from the end of the string and Tracy swore as she stuffed it back into the gun. Nick and Vachon looked at one another and sighed. They each grabbed an arm and hauled Tracy to her feet. Vachon continued checking out Tracy's legs until she gave him a dirty look and straightened her skirt. "Well well well," oozed LaCroix. "This is turning into quite a Frat party." He circled around Tracy like a shark homing in on a bather. "And I, for one, am wondering when we're going to tap into the keg." "Now LaCroix," advised Nick. "That's not why we're here." "It may not be why you are here, Nicholas, but you certainly don't speak for me." "Vachon, c'mon, back me up here." "Who? Me?" Blinked Vachon. "Sorry, man, not my problemo." "Slacker." "Pragmatist." "Boys boys boys," tsked LaCroix. "Let us try to act at least one one-hundredth of our respective ages, shall we?" He rubbed his fingers up and down the line of Tracy's jugular and the other two vampires stared longingly. "Remember how it was, my lads?" Crooned the elder vampire softly. "When any woman was ours for the taking? Sweet and ripe and fresh, before any of this equality nonsense replaced their helpless frailty with steely self-reliance?" He ruffled her short blond hair. "Honey gold skeins to wrap around our fists. Soft white skin that the sun was never allowed to touch in which bury ourselves. Sweet rivers of blood surrendered willingly to our appetites. Those were the days, were they not?" Nick was visibly trembling with frustrated longing. Vachon ran his tongue around his lips hungrily. "Well then," LaCroix chuckled coldly. "What is holding you back?" "Oh puh-lease!" Urs snorted at she pushed her way past the slobbering male vampires and stood next to Tracy with her hands on her hips, glaring. "This is just soooo typical! You men, always thinking with your fangs." She stomped over to Nick. "And just what were you planning to do, Mr. Guilt-trip? Indulge yourself in a nice hot drinky-poo and then drive everyone nuts when you cry yourself to sleep every night?" She pressed the back of her hand against her forehead dramatically. "Oh, woe is me, I'm a bad vampire, boo hoo hoo." She straightened up and jabbed a finger into his chest. "Well let me tell you something buster, not only are you a bad vampire, but you can be a real jerk sometimes!" Vachon snickered and Urs whirled on him. "Whoa, hey, I haven't done anything." He said hastily with his hands raised defensively. "No," she remarked sweetly. "You haven't, have you?" He started to lower his hands in relief and she moved in swiftly. "You haven't shaved, you haven't washed, you haven't combed your hair." She fingered the split ends critically. "'E 'asn't fed th'poochie neither." Toto volunteered, but no one cared, so he just continued muttering unintelligibly to himself. "You haven't done a single thing of the slightest significance in five hundred years." "Ow." He complained, unwrapping her hands from his hair. "Hey, I brought you across, didn't I?" "Oh, gee, that's right, you did, didn't you? Let's see, that was right after I said 'I hate my life, please kill me', wasn't it?" She clapped her hand to her cheek. "Oh, I forgot, we don't think, we just drink, don't we?" She glared derisively at both Nick and Vachon until they hung their heads shamefully. "So my little Goldilocks," interjected LaCroix. "If my noble crusader is too hot, and the little Spaniard is too cold, where does that leave me?" Urs turned and regarded him thoughtfully. A little smile touched her lips and his imperturbable facade trembled slightly. Sidling up close, she pressed herself against him and twined her arms around his neck. "Where do you think that leaves you?" She whispered huskily and proceeded to remove his tonsils with her tongue. (They grew back almost immediately, since he was such an ancient vampire). She released him with an audible . "Luke-warm, Lucien, where else?" And she skipped back into the woods, laughing. LaCroix heard a muffled snort and spun around to glare at the other two vampires. Nick was struggling to keep a bland expression on his face while Vachon stared up at the sky, whistling. "You two may think this is all very amusing," LaCroix snarled. "But all this talk has done is increased my thirst." He wrapped his hand around Tracy's neck and pulled her closer. "LaCroix, no!" Cried Nick as he launched himself in a desperate attempt to save Tracy. He found himself sailing high over the tree tops. "I couldn't have misjudged the distance that badly, could I?" He wondered. Then he realized that he was not traveling under his own power. Twisting around awkwardly, he looked up over his shoulder and saw that he was being carried through the air by a large man wearing a bright red vest and a little red felt cap with a tassel. He looked a bit like a shriner. Well, if shriners had really long fangs, anyway. "Nice vest." Nick commented. "T'anks." "I'm Detective Knight, Metro Homicide." "Yeah, I know. I'm Tony da Enforcer. Pleased ta meetcha." "Uh, Tony, would it be too much trouble for you to tell me what's going on?" "Da Boss sent me, Vinnie, Guido, Luigi and Billy-Bob to fetch youse guys." "Billy-Bob?" "Shhh, dat's a sore point wid him. I would not bring it up, if I was youse." "Where are we going?" "Like I said, to see da Boss." "And who is this 'Boss'?" "Nope, I cannot tell you dat. Boss' orders." "Can you tell me where we're going?" "We's takin' youse ta Enforcer Headquarters." "That's helpful." "Hey, what do I look like? Da Michelin Guide or somethin'?" Since Tony did not appear to be any more forthcoming about their destination, Nick took a look around. To either side, he saw Tracy, Vachon, LaCroix and Toto each enjoying the hospitality of their own personal Enforcer. He assumed that Billy-Bob was the one wearing the bright orange baseball cap with the word CAT stitched on the front. Then, rising above the trees like a great spike thrust though the earth by some immense Titan, Nick saw what could only be the Emerald Tower. Unfortunately, Billy-Bob had let his attention wander and flew straight into it. The long flexible antenna at the top of the tower bent forward at the impact and then sprang back violently. With a wild rebel yell, Billy-Bob disappeared over the horizon. Toto, Billy-Bob's passenger, was left dangling by his collar on the dancing antenna. He was whipped back and forth like some deranged windshield wiper, spouting unintelligible invectives until an unwary pigeon flew straight into his mouth. Mumbling incoherently through a pile of feathers, he sucked contentedly on the unfortunate bird until he could be detached from the antenna. "Well, dis is it." Proclaimed Tony as he and the remaining Enforcers landed on the roof of a structure growing around the slender tower like a gall on a tree. "Uh, d'ya tink he could leave dat outside?" He pointed with obvious distaste at Toto and what was left of the pigeon. Nick started to tell Toto to drop it, but then he looked at the Enforcer and folded his arms. "Sorry, he never listens to me. Maybe you can convince him." Tony looked at Toto who promptly did his Cujo impression. The Enforcer swallowed uneasily at the sight of Toto's gore-and-feather-coated fangs and snapped his fingers at one of his fellow Enforcers. "Guido, you take care of da pooch. Vinnie, Luigi, bring da rest of dem inside. We don' wanna keep da boss waitin'." They filed inside, accompanied by the sounds of rabid snarls, scurrilous language and pained yelps from the unfortunate Enforcer. After and endless series of identical corridors, Tony stopped and unlocked a door seemingly at random. "Okay, everybuddy in." He announced, and put a hand on LaCroix's chest. "'Cept you." And the door was shut and locked. Nick, Tracy and Vachon stared at one another and then at the room. There were several unpleasantly upholstered chairs placed against the walls with artificial plants and small tables scattered about indescriminantly. In other words, it appeared to be a typical waiting room. Tracy wandered over to one of the tables and picked up a tattered magazine. As she did so, one of the pages unfolded. "Ewww," she remarked, curling her lip. "That's disgusting." "What?" Asked Vachon, peering over curiously. "Oh, wow. Nick, take a look at this." Vachon held the centerfold open with a feral leer and Nick's eyes glazed over. Tracy turned away with a rude noise and pawed through the other magazines. "What *is* this?" She complained. "'Playvamp'? 'Bloodbank Babes'? 'Jugulars'?" "Hey, Nick," enthused Vachon. "Check it out! 'Miss AB-negative': She likes foods rich in iron, midnight walks in dark alleys and guys with *really* long--" "--Uh huh," Nick interrupted, snapping his gaze away forcefully. "Look, uh, shouldn't we be trying to think of a way out of here?" "Oh." Vachon frowned thoughtfully. "Why?" "What do you mean, 'why'? We were brought here against our will, we're being held without our consent. Of course we should be trying to escape." Vachon shrugged and slouched down into one of the chairs. "I dunno. I didn't really have anything planned for today." He picked up another magazine ('Fangtasies' Special Issue: Necks of the Big Ten). "What's the rush?" "I'm with you, Nick." Tracy proclaimed. "There's not a 'People' or a 'Cosmo' in the entire bunch." She pulled out her gun. "Let's blow this popsicle stand." Just then the door opened and a highly irritated cairn terrier was tossed inside, followed by a stiff-lipped LaCroix. "Hey, mortal," said an Enforcer (probably Guido, judging by the bloody pigeon feathers clinging stubbornly to his vest). "You're next." Tracy looked at Nick with wide, anxious eyes and he gave her a reassuring nod. Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath and followed Guido out into the hall. The door clicked shut once again. Curious, Nick looked over at LaCroix, who was standing at the far end of the room, fingering the dusty leaves of one of the artificial plants. Nick walked over and started to put his hand on LaCroix's shoulder. "LaCroix..." He began. "Don't...touch me." LaCroix insisted, turning his face away. "What's wrong?" "Nothing." LaCroix replied shortly. "But...what happened to you? What did they do?" "I don't want to talk about it." Nick huffed impatiently. "But how can I know what's wrong if you won't talk about it?" "LaCroix gave Nick a haughty look over his shoulder. "Oh, as if you even cared." "What does my caring have to do with anything?" LaCroix turned angrily. "That's where you're wrong, mister! It has to do with *everything*." Vachon's magazine rustled loudly. "Could you keep it down, please?" Nick hissed at LaCroix. "Keep it down?" Shrilled LaCroix. "After everything I've been through, all you can do is ask me to keep it down? Oh, that is *so* typical." He flounced over to a chair and snapped open a magazine angrily. Nick stood for a moment with a stunned look on his face, then his jaw tightened and he strode to the other end of the room and sat down with his own magazine. Tension filled the room like a thick, black cloud. Nick found himself unable to concentrate on the excellent article concerning the importance of flossing and peered around his magazine. LaCroix had turned sideways in his chair, so he faced the blank wall and Nick could see that his shoulders were shaking slightly. The sound of a muffled sob reached his ears. He couldn't believe it. LaCroix was crying. He walked over and stood quietly behind the hunched figure. "LaCroix...Lucien," he said gently, reaching out his hand. LaCroix batted at it feebly. "No," he choked. "Go away. I don't want you to see me like this." Nick crouched down beside the chair. "Look, whatever the problem is, we can work it out." "Oh sure," hiccoughed LaCroix. "How can we work it out when you don't even know what the problem is?" Nick was about to say: 'How can I know if you won't *tell* me?' But he thought the better of it and with a sudden burst of inspiration said: "It's me, I know. I've been thoughtless and selfish and I've disregarded your feelings completely." "Yes you have." Agreed LaCroix, dabbing at his eyes with a black silk handkerchief. Sensing that he was on a roll, Nick continued. "And I am truly sorry. I'll make it up to you, I promise." "Oh, sure," sniffed LaCroix. "I've heard *that* before. And how long is it going to last this time? One, two hundred years?" Nick tipped LaCroix's chin up and flashed him that charming, boyish grin. "But those were some pretty terrific centuries, weren't they?" Despite himself, LaCroix found himself smiling back. "Yeah," he sighed. "They certainly were." "It can be like that again, Lucien." "Oh Nicky," quavered LaCroix, throwing his arms around Nick. "Do you really think so?" Over LaCroix's shoulder, Nick saw Vachon regarding him with raised eyebrows. Nick rolled his eyes skyward and Vachon nodded sympathetically. The door crashed open. Nick disentangled himself from LaCroix and watched in disbelief as Tracy swaggered into the room. The girl guide uniform had been replaced by tight leather pants and a black satin bustier. Vachon's mouth dropped open. "Tracy?" He exclaimed, his voice cracking wildly. "You bet your sweet little buns." She walked over and looked him up and down with a predatory smile. Grabbing him roughly by the collar of his jacket, she proceeded to remove his tonsils with her tongue (they took some time to grow back, since he was a relatively young vampire). "Mmmmm, not bad, Javier Vachon. Not bad at all." She purred. While his knees were still wobbling, she propelled him out the door to the waiting Enforcers. "Take good care of him, boys, I'll want him back when you're done." She shut the door and leaned against it while she surveyed the room. Her eyes locked with Nick's and he swallowed nervously. "Uh...Trace..." He quavered as she began stalking him. Suddenly her path was blocked by a dark menacing figure. "Don't you dare touch him." LaCroix hissed. "Get out of my way, Q-tip." "Don't try my patience, sweetie, or I'll rip that perky blond pageboy out by the roots and see what color they really are." "Oh, and I suppose your golden peach fuzz is naturally sun-bleached?" Retorted Tracy. "Move aside, fossil." "Is that a comment on my age, dearie?" "Not at all. Just because your last date was a carbon-date--" LaCroix slapped her. "Bitch." Tracy slapped him back. "Dinosaur." "LaCroix, Tracy, please--" Nick began. LaCroix took a swing, but Tracy ducked and Nick took the full force of the blow straight to the chin. He flew across the room and cracked his head on the edge of a table. He awoke to the sound of voices. "You've got to be kidding?" Tracy gasped. "I swear it's the truth. There I was, impaled on a stake, absolutely *disintegrating* in the sunlight and he just stood over me and smirked." "Unbelievable." "Well, that's Nicholas for you." "Don't I know it." Nick opened his eyes to see both Tracy and LaCroix glaring down at him. The door opened, and Nick breathed a sigh of relief as the two pairs of accusing eyes looked away when Vachon stepped into the room. Vachon saw Tracy, and opened his arms wide with a sweet smile. "Tracy, darling!" "Well," said Tracy to LaCroix. "You can have him. I've got sweeter meat waiting for me." And she sauntered over to Vachon. "Oh, sweetheart," Vachon murmured. "There are so many things we need to talk...ulp." His words were blocked by Tracy's tongue (his tonsils had not grown back yet, so she settled for his uvula). "Uh," he gasped breathlessly. "Wait, Tracy, I need to know where you think our relationship is go...eep!" She grabbed his rear and pulled him against her with an inarticulate growl. He fought his way free and scrambled up onto a table. When she tried to pull him down, he fended her off with an artificial plant. Two Enforcers stalked into the room and pulled Nick to his feet. Just before the door closed, Nick heard Vachon still trying to reason with Tracy. "B...but honey, we need to discuss how we feel about each other." "All we need to know is how we feel against each other. C'm'ere my little conquistador." Nick was led down a hallway and stopped at a large black door that slid open noiselessly. He was shoved inside and the door slid shut. He was left in complete and utter darkness. He stumbled forward carefully, and at the edge of his vision, he saw a small glimmer of light. As he approached, he saw that it was a doorway. He recognized that doorway. Twice before he had seen it, and always a choice had been offered to him. Life or Death? Salvation or Damnation? "Pepperoni or Sausage?" Came the Voice. "What?" Asked Nick. "What do you want on your pizza? Pepperoni or sausage?" Nick stepped up to the doorway, shielding his eyes against the blinding glare of the light and tried to peer through. "S...Schanke? Is that you?" Something grabbed his hand and he was pulled through the doorway. Cringing, he waited for his soul to be judged and final punishment to be handed down. Nothing happened and he straightened slowly, blinking in the bright noonday sun. The Sun! He cringed again, waiting for his flesh to begin sizzling and the inevitable combustion of his vampire blood. Nothing continued to happen. "If you've finished cringing, why don't you come over here and have a seat?" Said Schanke's voice. "The pizza's gettin' cold. And while stiff, congealed pizza holds a certain ineffable charm at three in the morning, I'm bettin' that you'd prefer it hot and bubbling. Am I right?" Nick looked over and saw his erstwhile partner comfortably ensconced at a small round table in the shade of a large umbrella. "Schanke. It *is* you." "In the flesh." Schanke chuckled as Nick staggered over. "Here y'go, partner." And he slipped a large section of pizza onto Nick's plate. "Pepperoni *and* sausage for the man who never could make up his mind about anything truly important." Nick looked down at the pizza. "But I can't eat--" Then the smell overwhelmed his senses and his mouth began to water. Before he knew what was happening, he found himself devouring the pizza, crust and all. "Here, have a beer to wash it down." Schanke tossed him a frosted can. "Wait Nick," he grinned. "Try it this way." His eyes glowed gold and he punched a hole in the base of the can with one of his long white fangs and popped the top. Within seconds, he crumpled the empty can and belched loudly as he tossed it aside. "That's called 'shot-gunning'. Pretty nifty, huh Nick? Nick? Yo...earth to Nick." He waved a hand in front of Nick's face. "Y...y...you're a...a..." "Come on Nick, say it with me. 'You're a vampire, Schanke'. Yup, that I am." "H...h...how long...?" Schanke leaned back with a thoughtful sigh. "Ahh, gee, let me see...I think it'll be about five thousand years, come November." He shook his head. "Gosh, it almost seems like yesterday. Where does the time go, huh Nick? Nick? Geez Nick, you really should try a little harder to stay focused. People are gonna start wondering about you." "B...but...you...all the time? How...why didn't you tell me?" "Oh, like you ever opened up to me?" "But daylight? Food? *Souvlaki*?!" Sputtered Nick. "Eating isn't tough, Nick. You just never gave it much of a chance. Sunlight's a little rougher, I mean, you'll notice I worked the nightshift too. But with a hat, sunglasses and some heavy-duty sunscreen, it's do-able." Schanke bit into another piece of pizza, catching the dangling strands of cheese with his tongue. "'Course, havin' five millennia under yer belt don't hurt none." Tony walked into view and leaned over to whisper in Schanke's ear. Something clicked inside Nick's befuddled brain. "*You're* the Boss!" He exclaimed. "Give that man a cigar!" Chortled Schanke. Tony handed Nick a cigar. "Actually, that's just a figure of speech," explained Schanke. "Ah, hell, give me one too, while you're at it." Tony lit their cigars and walked away. Schanke leaned back and puffed contentedly. "All right Nick, what is it that you need?" "What?" Choked Nick as he inhaled a lungful of smoke. "Oh for Pete's sake, you're not supposed to inhale. Just pull the smoke into your mouth and roll it around a bit. Taste it. Savor it. Geez, no wonder you're such a rotten vampire. No control at all." "Why did you ask if I needed anything?" "Nobody follows the yellow brick road unless they need something, Nick. LaCroix needed sensitivity training, Tracy needed assertiveness training. And Vachon got some badly needed relationship counseling." Nick remembered the scenes in the waiting room. "Uh, don't you think you overdid things, just a bit?" Schanke waved his hand negligently. "Water under the bridge, ancient history. We're talking about you now. What do you, Nicholas de Brabant, need?" Nick opened his mouth. "I'll tell you what you need, my friend, you need to get Jimminy Cricket off your back." "Cricket?" Nick gaped in confusion. "Your conscience, Nick. That millstone necktie you're wearing. You need a return ticket from the guilt trip you've been on." "What are you saying?" Two Enforcers appeared on either side of Nick's chair as Schanke stood up and walked around the table. "I'm talking angst-ectomy here, Nick. Wave bye-bye to all your could've, would've and should've beens, 'cause they're about to be disappeared." He cracked his knuckles in gleeful anticipation. Nick tried to leap out of his chair and escape, but the two Enforcers kept him pinned to his seat. "Schank, please," he begged. "You can't do this. One of my greatest appeals as a character is the never-ending struggle between my vampiric nature and my mortal conscience. If you take part of that away, you remove all impetus towards further character development." "Character shmaracter," Schanke sneered. "Try getting blown up in a plane crash and see what that does for your character. Now hold still, the excruciating pain should only last for a few minutes." Nick screwed his eyes shut and braced himself against the inevitable. A cry of agonized torment split the air and Nick cracked his eyes open to see whose it was. Schanke writhed on the ground, smoke billowing from his rapidly evaporating form. "I'm melting!" he wailed. "I'm melting! Oh, what a world, what a world..." His voice trailed away and there was nothing left but a pile of damp clothes, over which a seedy-looking cairn terrier stood with one hind leg cocked. "Now then," Toto remarked, looking over his work with satisfaction. "'At's a roight mess." The two Enforcers were frozen in shock at the unsavory manner of their leader's demise, so Nick took the opportunity to jump from his chair and run for the edge of the roof. He heard the sounds of outraged pursuit, so he launched himself over the railing and into space, hoping that he had enough of a head start to outfly them. He soon noted that he did not so much fly as plummet. He cursed the leaden mass of beer and pizza in his stomach that dragged him all unwilling towards the unforgiving embrace of the earth. He looked wistfully past his trailing feet towards the clear blue freedom of the sky. "Feet." He thought. "Heels." Came the next thought, which he dismissed immediately. Then he took another look at the rapidly approaching ground. "Well, it's not as if anyone is looking." Closing his eyes, he carefully brought his feet together and clicked his heels three times. "There's no place like home." The wind whistled past his ears. "There's no place like home." Tree branches whipped against his face. "There's no place like home." The phone shrilled in his ear. <> "Hello, this is Nick Knight, I'm either asleep or incommunicado, so leave a message." <> "Nick? It's me, Natalie. Look, I know it's not a good time to call, but I just had the strangest dream." She laughed self-consciously. "You've *got* to hear it. Call me back." <> "Am I a vampire dreaming of being a man, or a man dreaming of being a vampire?" Murmured Nick, and went back to sleep. End Cast - In order of appearance: Dorothy.........................Nick Knight The House.......................Nick's Caddy Glinda, The Good Witch..........Natalie Lambert The Wicked Witch of the East....Janette Ducharme The Scarecrow...................Tracy Vetter Toto............................Screed The Tin Man.....................Lucien LaCroix The Cowardly Lion...............Javier Vachon The Wicked Witch of the West....Urs The Flying Monkeys..............Tony, Guido, Luigi, Vinnie & Billy-Bob The Wizard......................Donald Schanke And Jerry Mathers as the Beaver "Toto! Drop it! That's a beaver, not a rat!" "Aw roight, aw roight. No need t'git yer knickers inna twist." Erika "Are you *always* like this?" "Like what?"